Man Behind the Mask
by clandestine.masquerade
Summary: The only way he could put the suit on again was if he redeemed himself for all of the harm he did. Steve Rogers could never lose himself to Captain America again. A story of the dark truth behind the stars and stripes and Steve's personal journey to find the kid from Brooklyn again.


**Man Behind the Mask**

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_Note: This story is a very dark interpretation of Captain America. It contains extreme angst (bordering on mental unhinging) and graphic descriptions of violence. Please only read what you are comfortable with._

_I do not own any of the characters – they are all property of Marvel._

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Captain America was lost in the ice. He was trapped there for nearly seventy years, unable to breathe or move or think. He thought he was dead, so he slept, convinced that eventually he would feel something other than the crush of the ice. Then, Steve was pulled from the ice. Captain America stayed behind.

When it came down to it, Cap was always just a kid from Brooklyn given a few shots and a suit. Sure, he had the body of a super soldier, but it didn't change who he was. He had never intended to change to fit the role he had been given, but looking back he had. He had made many mistakes and forsook his morals because of it. He was ashamed of the blind rage he had felt after Bucky's death. He shuddered at the thought of his weakness when he came to his 'professional' relationship with Peggy, though he did love her. He even regretted killing some of the Hydra agents. He had never wanted to kill, after all. At the time he thought it was necessary, but looking back… he didn't just take their life to save his comrades, he had ruthlessly murdered them in blind rage.

He had nightmares of the things he had done in the name of Captain America. On the surface it seemed to be pure selflessness, to put himself in the line of fire for his country and the world. He had even made a martyr of himself in the end. That's how the media covered it and that's how he had thought of it for so long. But now he could see the terror in a wounded enemy's eyes as he stalked forward, about to take his life. He saw his chase through the alpine woods, brutally incinerating Hydra agents that wouldn't have been able to stop him or his forces anyway. He had heard the sizzling and popping of their skin blackening over the engine of his motorcycle and their agonized screams. Had he not thrown a man from a plane, into the icy North Atlantic Ocean? He had. That poor man, staring at the wall of the sea rapidly approaching until – BAM. Bones crush, a body bloated by sea water beyond recognition, eaten away by fish. Another life taken in the name of _liberty_. He knew that the man would have died anyway when the plane crashed into the ice, but his conscience rang with the truth that he could have spared him his fate by putting him down humanely.

The terrible truth was that Captain America was a murderer. Steve Rogers was just a kid from Brooklyn, with a few credits from an art school under his belt and a penchant for picking fights that he would lose so he can defend someone even weaker than he was. He had sworn he would protect the world from bullies, but he became one himself when he let himself get lost behind the mask. No, Steve Rogers refused to lose himself again. Cap would never return if Steve had a say in it.

Over the weeks he stayed in his compound below the SHIELD headquarters, it became apparent that his newfound hatred for the spangled uniform would become a problem. He had a series of meetings with Director Fury concerning the matter. Steve made it clear that Captain America had been misused before and therefore he wouldn't be used again. Fury, of course, argued with him and tried to convince him that America needed Cap, but Steve would have none of it. There was nothing that could happen that would be bad enough that he would wear that bloodied suit again.

He didn't take into account the possibility that maybe the work he thought he had finished by putting that plane into the water would resurface. The Cosmic Cube, now being called the Tesseract, had been found again and detained by SHIELD.

Apparently it had been in their possession for years. Nobody had bothered to inform Steve Rogers until they felt he had recovered from his traumatic reawakening. Only then did Agent Sitwell drop hints of it in conversation, knowing that Steve would be interested and would look into it on his own time.

Now, after convincing himself that he was retired from his service as Captain America, he was facing the more difficult task of accepting his duty to his country again. He thought through his years in the army, everything from his days selling war bonds in a wool costume to being sent to the troops for meager entertainment to his adventure setting free 400 prisoners of war on a Hydra base thirty miles behind enemy lines. Those were the days that he knew himself. He did what he was ordered if it was reasonable and he saved the people who needed his help, a super soldier's help. He was there to help the war effort because he had no right to do anything else when corrupted German soldiers and their allies were putting down his brothers like dogs. When exactly did he lose sight of his purpose?

It was Bucky's death, he realized quickly. Bucky had been his sole friend for his entire life. They had done everything together in the orphanage and even lived together once they were kicked out on the streets. They had always looked out for each other and respected each other. When Bucky had been drafted and sent to fight in Steve's dad's old unit, the 107th, Steve knew he absolutely had to fight by his side. There was no choice. Even before that there was no choice.

When he got to Italy on his war bonds tour and heard about the capture of the majority of the 107th, he again immediately knew his duty to his best friend and brother. Even orders from Colonel Phillips couldn't stop him, so he saved those 400 soldiers behind the Colonel's back. He found Bucky strapped to a table, thoroughly confused and with strange needle marks in his arms. He got him out of there.

For a while it was perfect. He was an active duty soldier in the American military, exactly what he had set out to do by going to all of those enlisting stations back home. He was fighting alongside Bucky and the Howling Commandos, a band of mismatched but loyal and talented soldiers. He was sent on missions to destroy Hydra bases and in the evenings he would return and he would drink with his friends and catch a glance of Peggy, if he was lucky. That was when Captain America was more than a symbol: he was a hero. A real hero, that served his country and helped the innocent while never harming people unnecessarily.

At the time, he would have never guessed that Bucky would die. But he did. He fell from that train and Steve watched him disappear, falling into a canyon with snow flurrying around him as he screamed. Captain America knew who did it. It was Hydra. It was the Nazis. It was the damn fascists with their crazed Fuhrer, Hitler. From then on, his mission wasn't so clear. He followed his orders, but he had his own orders to follow as well. He was to avenge Bucky's death at all costs. He would win the war for Bucky, and he would take down anyone who threatened to get in his way.

From then on he was ruthless. He stabbed people with knives, shot them with guns, crushed their skulls with his shield and burned them with their own gas torches. He bombed their tanks and he threw them from planes flying thousands and feet above frozen water. He didn't spare any of them because _they killed Bucky_. He didn't realize until he himself was trapped in a purgatory of ice that he hadn't done any of it to avenge Bucky, not really. He did it for revenge, for himself, because he was well and truly alone without his only true friend. Even when Peggy started to favor him, he couldn't feel whole. He simply could not be himself without Bucky there.

Then how could he have forgotten Bucky?

Oh, when he crashed the plane! He hadn't even thought of Bucky. How was that even possible? Everything he had done, the reason he had become who he was, was because of Bucky, for Bucky! Peggy was beautiful, but he didn't love her a fraction as much as he did Bucky. The truth, the hard, cold truth was that Bucky's death was an excuse for him to kill without guilt and carve a path through the enemy to complete his mission. The truth was that Captain America was a monster. Steve was a monster.

The only way he could put the suit on again was if he redeemed himself for all of the harm he did. He could never _not_ think again. He had to be sure. He couldn't kill just to get a job done more easily. If it could be avoided, it would be avoided. But how could he ensure that would happen? How did he know he wouldn't lose sight of his morals again?

The simple, true answer was that he couldn't.

Steve was terrified of himself. He was terrified of his body. The body made to kill and maim, his suit that protected his weapon of a body. His beloved shield scared him, too. It was so hard and sharp and strong – he had proved time and again it was lethal, even though it was made for defense. What if he couldn't control himself, what if Cap hijacked Steve's mind again and took over?

It took Steve months to agree to possibly work for SHIELD if they needed it in the future. He warned them of the consequences. He worked to be in control of himself. That was all he could do.

Sit. Punch. Reminisce. Regret. Seethe. Cry. Sleep. Wake. Warn. _Try_. Try to live again, as him. Not as Captain America, but as Steve Rogers.

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_Note: As you can see, this is a very dark interpretation of Steve Rogers and Captain America. I was suddenly inspired today after I watched a deleted scene from the Avengers featuring a very lonely and very sullen Steve. He obviously faced some tremendous trauma both during the war and in the wake of his recovery. I can't imagine that his mind is in a very good place. He is my favorite character and I like to think of him as being a happy person, but unfortunately I'm not sure that's a realistic expectation from a character with such a twisted past._

_I also drew inspiration from some musing I've been having over Captain America: the First Avenger. As you can probably imagine after reading this, I have some strong feelings about the second part of the film. Bucky was his best friend, and when he died I expected that to be the driving motivator behind Cap's actions. However, his death seemed to ultimately have a very negative effect of Cap's actions. He when from saying 'I don't like bullies, I won't kill unless I have to' to burning people alive in the motorcycle chase and throwing people from planes (which he also does in Avengers)! Those are not exactly humane killing tactics. Those people would have suffered tremendously, which little Steve would not have condoned. The end also upset me, when he's talking to Peggy as he's putting the plane into the water. There is not a single mention of his best friend, a hint at it even, all he focuses on in a woman who he has had a crush on. It doesn't sit right with me. I love the movie, but the more I think about it the more I question the characterization of Steve in the writing._

_So… what do you think? I'm sure most people won't like this story's version of Steve or Cap (they are separate characters in the story as far as I'm concerned). What do you think? Please tell me, I'm very interested to know._

_Finally, if you were wondering why this was under Avengers, it is because there will be a second chapter! That chapter will follow the Battle of New York and his reaction to his first time back in the suit after waking up!_


End file.
